The Stunna Shades vs Casey
by nattylovesjordy
Summary: It all started when some of our favorite characters had a pair of sunglasses in common....


_Disclaimer: I don't own _Chuck_, but I do TOTALLY own the word 'coolio' and any variation of 'BAM!' that may be in here. Oh, and there may or may not be (you will never know which one it is!) minor spoilers/hints in here about Season two of our beloved _Chuck_. Oh, and incase you didn't notice, this is considered my "Crack-_Chuck_-fic" genre. There's a few others that I have, too... _

R&R. Adios!

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**The Stunna Shades vs. Casey**

It was a beautiful warm and sunny day; perfect for throwing on a pair of sunglasses and washing a Crown Vic. Only, Casey's Crown Vic was non-existent after Chuck decided to blow it up.

Daily, while he mourned the loss of his beauty, Casey reminded himself that it was for his country. Even if he said it with venom dripping from his words. And maybe a few mental pictures of Chuck on the ground of a rather torn up parking lot, Casey's foot pressing his face down into the gravel, and Chuck spitting out the unwelcome gravel and blood that was occupying too much space in his mouth.

So, instead of washing is prized car, John Casey dragged his unwilling butt over to the perpetrator's home for their morning car-pool to the BuyMore.

But, before heading out, he inspected his new look in the mirror. Finally satisfied with how strong and sophisticated, yet scary and emotionless, he appeared with his new "gunmetal-brown" sunglasses, he walked out the door with an extra and unusual bounce in his step.

Cutting the time in half, Chuck coincidentally walked out his front door at the same time as Casey, with the same extra bounce in his walk. But, it couldn't be too bouncy. Because, to rightfully accompany the coolness that radiates from his really awesome new silver pair of Ray-Ban aviators, you have to walk cool enough to look cool. And that's exactly what Chuck was trying to accomplish. He wanted to be the cool nerd that everyone loved and knew who had the cool shades, the cool walk and the smokin' hott girlfriend.

Even if she was a fake girlfriend, it still counted!

And so, as he walked outside, the sun not agitating his covered eyes, he smiled his coolest, and hottest, smile for the... fountain to see. But then, BAM! A few steps later and he found himself on the floor after a nice little trip from his randomly untied pair of Chuck Taylors.

"Lets," Casey started, his voice quickly cut off by seeing what Chuck was wearing and him picking up off the floor. "Go." He added, his voice deadpan.

"What?" Chuck asked, seeing, through Casey's sunglasses, the look on his face. Casey was staring intently at him. "Do I have syrup on my chin? I've always been messy at eating pancakes, but I thought that I got...it...all...off..." Chuck's sentence trailed off as Casey started grunting and looking scarier and scarier by the minute.

Apparently, Chuck didn't even consider the obvious reasons as to why Casey would be staring at him; because he fell or because of the same sunglasses.

"Damn you, Chuck Bartowski. Damn. You." Casey steamed, his eyes wide and squinted at the same time creating the look of death.

Chuck was completely oblivious to what was wrong.

"I go and get myself a new pair of sunglasses after my last ones got smashed by a _certain person_," Casey started, implying that Chuck broke Casey's last pair. "And I end up having the same damn pair as you!"

"Well, this can't be tolerated, can it, big guy?" Chuck replied, still trying to wipe the non-existent syrup from his chin.

"It'll be easily tolerated simply by you not wearing yours."

"I think I'll pass. I mean, these shades make me look cool, so, why would I give that up? You, on the other hand... Not so much."

"I really hate to burst your bubble, I really do, but you look like a nerd who is trying to be cool. Now, take them off, or I'll shoot them off."

"Ooohhh... I'm scared now!" Chuck mocks as he removes them from his face, and then quickly puts them back on. "There. Now it's your turn."

Casey played along. "I'll take them off as long as you take them off at the same time."

Chuck looked at him and complied. On the immature count of three-being Chuck's decision-Chuck took his glasses off, but Casey didn't.

Before Chuck could whine about Casey not going at the count of three, Casey used his element of surprise, stole the glasses out of Chuck's hands and squeezed them in his.

"This is for stealing my shades!" Casey yelled as he squeezed them hard enough for them to snap.

"Nooo!" Chuck yelled as he watched on, all the while being tortured.

As Casey threw the broken shades to the ground so he could act out his fantisy of smashing Chuck's head to the ground with Chuck's sunglasses, he smiled the smile that always comes to his face when he tortures someone or shoots someone.

Ahhhh... does it feel good.

In his state of partial shock, Chuck just watched on as his super-duper-coolio sunglasses got destroyed.

In the middle of Casey's fantasizing display, Morgan Grimes walked up to the fountain area of the apartment complex where the two were.

"Hey guys, what's up?" He greeted, causing both heads to turn upwards to look at him.

And guess what? He was wearing the same sunglasses as Casey was wearing and Chuck was previously wearing.

"Grrrimmmeeessss...!" Casey grunted, really hard, under his breath.

Morgan, upon seeing the look on Casey's face, responded, "What? Are you in cahoots with Hitler or something? You've got the crazy eyes like Rasputin!"

Ohhhh... It was going down!

And all this was shown by the even scarier look of death that came upon Casey's face.

-Fade to... Gray! With bright pink, yellow, orange, bright teal and lime green polka dots, of course!-  
-Puts up those 'Boom!' and 'Kapow!' signs that are used in comic books-

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**Pancakes** and **Kayla**... I hope you saw your little call outs...


End file.
